


This Light

by sinemoras09



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, F/F, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 18:08:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3456803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinemoras09/pseuds/sinemoras09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ignorance is bliss. Homura/Madoka. Post-rebellion. Dub-con.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Light

Homura was late again. Madoka waited, perched by the livingroom window with her face pressed up against the glass, and watched as the streetlights one by one began to light up. Clumps of snow drifted slowly in the cold night air as the sky began to darken. In the distance, she could see Homura walking up the street, her figure a dark silhouette behind sheets of falling snow.

"Welcome back," Madoka said. Homura looked up. Her hair was wet; long strands of hair stuck to Homura's coat and face. "You look cold," Madoka said, and she helped Homura with her coat. "I made beef stew tonight. And since it's the weekend I thought we could stay in and watch movies together."

"That sounds nice," Homura said, and Madoka giggled, her eyes closing into twin half-moons as she smiled. She pressed a quick kiss against Homura's cheek and went back into the kitchen, dishing out the stew with flourish. They ate quietly, Homura delicately sipping the broth while Madoka bounced in her seat and rambled excitedly about her day. There was a small smile on Homura's lips, and mid-sentence Madoka stopped to reach out a hand and fondle the frayed edge of Homura's ribbon. "I like it when you wear this," Madoka said, and Homura blushed.

"It used to be yours," Homura said, and Madoka tilted her head. "You may not remember, but you gave it to me a long time ago."

"I did?" Madoka said, but Homura bent forward and gently kissed the side of Madoka's brow. 

 

*****

 

They had been together for over a year now. It was strange: Madoka would never have guessed that she and Homura would end up like this, sharing a blanket cuddled up on the couch. When they first met, Madoka had been vaguely afraid of her: aloof and distant, Homura had watched her with a veiled intensity that at first made Madoka uneasy. "I'm sure she's nice," Mami had said, and while Sayaka loudly protested that _that girl_ seemed creepy, don't you know she's stalking you, Madoka?!, Madoka herself couldn't help but notice how lonely Homura seemed. How there was this distance between her and everyone else.

But now Homura was not lonely, Madoka made sure of that. She squealed and clung to Homura as the scary parts of the movie blared on the screen, then rested her cheek on Homura's shoulder during the love scenes. The room was dark and cold and Madoka was only half paying attention, focusing more on the warmth of the body next to her, how at times Homura would shift her close, or let an absent hand gently stroke her arm.

Madoka looked up. Homura was watching the movie, and in the darkness her face was lit by the passing images on the screen. Madoka smiled and cuddled closer, and she could feel Homura glance down before shifting Madoka's weight against her chest. She felt warm and safe and good, and Madoka sighed contentedly, closing her eyes.

"Madoka?"

"Hm?"

"It's getting late," Homura said, and Madoka shifted to look at her. "We should get to bed."

"Okay," Madoka said, but she didn't move.

The kiss that came was gentle and unhurried, and she heard Homura sigh softly, the blanket slipping a little from their shoulders. "Madoka," Homura said, and Madoka let her kiss deepen, gently shifting her body and climbing onto Homura's lap. The couch creaked in protest as Madoka slipped a hand between their bodies, smiling warmly as she kissed Homura fully on the mouth. 

They moved to the bedroom, and this time it was Homura gently pushing Madoka's back against the mattress, her hot mouth sucking the side of Madoka's jugular.

"Homura...chan." Madoka gasped, hands raking the long hairs at the back of Homura's neck as Homura worked on her, peeling back the layers of Madoka's clothes and dropping worshipful kisses on each patch of exposed skin. 

She gasped at the feel of Homura's tongue, warm and wet and swirling against her clit, and Madoka cried out after one harsh suck. Two more strokes - because Homura was so good at it and seemed to know exactly what Madoka would need - and she felt the tension in her middle suddenly snap. Madoka gasped as she orgasmed, body jerking and pleasure crowding out her senses with each rhythmic contraction.

Her breathing slowed, and Madoka's eyes cracked open to see Homura straightening in the darkness. She was about to stand when Madoka reached out and caught her hand, pulling her back down into the bed. 

"Madoka?"

"Stay a little," Madoka said, and Homura nodded, gingerly slipping into the covers. As soon as Homura was lying down Madoka rolled onto her hip and kissed Homura on the cheek, one hand slipping behind Homura's head while the other slid between her legs.

"Madoka--"

"It's okay," Madoka said, and she hoped this time Homura would not argue with her. It was the strange thing about their lovemaking - Homura never let Madoka touch her, never wished for Madoka to debase herself, nevermind that Madoka wanted to make Homura feel good too. Half the time Homura would be content to curl up beside Madoka's body and hide her face into Madoka's back, or else she would leave and furtively touch herself while she thought Madoka was sleeping. "Why?" Madoka asked once, and Homura looked at her with sad dark eyes and said simply, "Because I'm not good enough," and no amount of reassurance would convince Homura otherwise. 

Now Madoka was kissing the side of Homura's jaw, letting her lips trail upward to suckle at the tender swell of Homura's lip. Her body was soft and pliant under Madoka's touch, but it wasn't until Madoka reached a hand to stroke her that Homura's hand gently circled Madoka's wrist. "Don't," Homura said.

"Why?" Madoka whispered. Homura wouldn't look at her. 

"Because I don't want you to," Homura said. 

"That isn't fair. You do it to me all the time--"

"It's not the same," Homura said, but Madoka shook her head. 

"I want to," Madoka said. She dipped down and kissed the side of Homura's face. "I want to make you feel good." And Homura sighed, closing her eyes.

The clock ticked softly as Madoka worked on her, and in the darkness of the bedroom there was no sound except for Homura's breathing and the slick, wet sounds of Madoka's mouth on Homura's sex. Homura's hands clenched and unclenched the bedsheets, then fell blindly over Madoka's shoulders; she could feel Homura's grip tighten around her arms. "Madoka," Homura said, and she moaned softly between short, choppy breaths. "Madoka, Madoka..."

Homura came, muscles bucking in taut bursts, just as Madoka was quietly licking soft circles against Homura's clit. Homura made a noise, a sharp, desperate cry, before falling limp beneath her.

"Mm," Madoka said, and she rose to Homura's belly and lay her cheek against Homura's chest. "You're so pretty, Homura-chan."

Homura wasn't looking at her. Her hand was thrown up over her eyes, so Madoka couldn't see her expression. She could see the corners of Homura's mouth tug into a frown.

"Homura-chan?"

"Don't," Homura said, and from beneath her arm, a tear rolled down the side of her face.

Homura was crying. She rolled to the side and pulled her knees to her chest, facing away from Madoka and keeping her back toward her.

"Homura-chan, what's wrong?"

"I am despicable," Homura said. She was shaking. Madoka pressed up against her back and pulled her close. "I am a terrible, horrible person--"

"Homura-chan that's not true," Madoka said. Homura shook her head.

"What if I told you I was keeping you here?" Homura said. "What if I said I was forcing you to stay?"

"Homura-chan, don't be silly! I'm here because I want to be." Madoka smiled, warmly. "I love you."

"Madoka," Homura said, and Madoka smiled and clasped her hand.

 

*****

 

The clock was ticking. Silently, Homura counted the long streaks of shadows that seemed to creep up around the edges of the ceiling. It's times like these that Homura could feel Madoka's power the most, latent bursts of energy radiating out from her like stars.

Madoka was asleep. Her head drooped against Homura's chest, one warm arm draped around her waist like a bracelet. If Homura let it, Madoka's power would flare out like a star gone nova, a sudden sunburst of white light that would wash everything away. 

"I love you," Madoka said again. Her eyes were still closed, but she was smiling, kissing the side of Homura's jaw and nestling closer.

**Author's Note:**

> I really liked how at the end of _Rebellion_ , Homura remade the universe for Madoka. I like to think Madoka is truly happy in that universe, even if Homura hates herself for caging her up like that.


End file.
